


One Untrue Epic

by Snarkoleptic



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Gen, Humor, Parody, Satinalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-17
Updated: 2011-12-17
Packaged: 2017-10-27 11:17:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/295226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snarkoleptic/pseuds/Snarkoleptic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas gift fic for Frayed One at FanFiction.net.  Idle hands are the devil’s playthings, which means Satinalia downtime for this Vigil’s Keep bunch is very dangerous indeed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Untrue Epic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Frayed One](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Frayed+One).



> Frayed One, showing a completely inappropriate lack of fear, entrusted to me for the purpose of creating some light-hearted prank-induced fluff her characters as developed in her three-book series, Varric Tethras: One True Epic. I’ve been following (and recommending) this series for some time now, and it’s currently headed down a dark and quite horror-like path that is absolutely delicious.
> 
> So of course her characters need a reprieve from all the darkness and angst. However, no work based on Frayed One’s characterization and skill for drama would do her justice if it didn’t pay homage to the epic undertones of sexual tension presently on display in Poison and Wine.
> 
> Veiled references may be made to one or two plot devices or twists that have found their way into this series, though I have made them vague enough not to spoil any part of the story for those who haven’t read it. I am taking a bit of a liberty with timeline calendar-wise and as relates to Delilah, but the idea is that, though it is in no way canon to her work, in my head it fits between a recent visit to Denerim and the group’s adventures in the Wending Wood.
> 
>  **Antivan translation** : Butcher’s Son (borrowed gratefully from Frayed One’s canon).
> 
> Without further ado: _One Untrue Epic_. Merry Christmas, Fray!

* * *

“All right,” Elissa spoke up as the travel-weary group stepped into the familiar throne room, grabbing their attention before they could make good their plans to wash away or sleep off the harsh pace she’d set from Denerim.  “Satinalia is coming up in a few days, so I’m declaring a moratorium on darkspawn.  We’ve pushed hard lately, and I’m sure all of us can use a break.  Absent any fires that need urgent attention, we’ll get back to it in a week.”

Anders cocked his head at her.  “If we don’t want any fires, it _might_ be a good idea for you to instruct Oghren not to breathe on anything.  Dwarf could ignite the least little spark with those vapors.”

“Heh,” the dwarf in question rumbled.  “And you’d know about breathin’ fire, wouldn’t ye?”

The healer bristled, sliding his gaze off into a corner before Nathaniel could interrupt.  “Other orders, _Commander?_ ”

“Maker’s hairy cleft, can we leave it off?”  Elissa was quite sure she’d thought enough about galas and corsets and hallways in the days since their departure from the capital.  The silences during the trip had been, as Zevran would have said had he been brave enough to comment, very pregnant.  “For one week, Nathaniel, let’s have a break from the drama along with the darkspawn.  Oghren, since you’re headed for the cellars anyway, call in at the kitchens on the way and tell them the Wardens will be in for the evening meal.”

“Hear that, Sparklefingers?”  Oghren elbowed the healer, who was making a point of looking anywhere _but_ at the dwarf, in the leg.  “I’ll save ye a seat.”

Elissa gusted out a sigh and waved her Wardens off, shaking her head at Varel as she passed the dais.  She was headed for her quarters, a bath, and one hour with her thoughts.  If the arling hadn’t gone up in smoke while she made the trek to Denerim, one more hour – or maybe even two – wouldn’t make a damned bit of difference.  She wasn’t at all worried about her mind being occupied by thoughts of that night, as she’d long since stopped noticing any jealousy or moody possessiveness coming from Nathaniel.  Since they’d left the city, their every interaction had been consumed with those emotions – she was just looking for a break from hearing about it.

But as the dining hall filled with starving Wardens, she thought she might just be getting the reprieve she’d asked for.  Maybe Nathaniel had decided to give her what she’d asked for in honor of the coming holiday, and wouldn’t that be nice?  Regardless of his reasons, if he wasn’t quite solicitous, he did at least manage to be civil.

She was almost too caught up in her relief to notice that Anders didn’t take the seat Oghren had saved, choosing instead to stand at the other end of the great table that served as a trough for the famous appetites of the Order.  She might just have to convince the dwarf to have a bath himself, perhaps as a Satinalia present to those around him.

* * *

  
Breakfast the following morning was far less subdued, with everyone having had a chance to rest.  The mood was further lightened by the ability to leave the armor behind, though Elissa was certain everyone had at least one weapon secreted somewhere under their more casual clothing.  _Old habits and all that._

At the conclusion of Anders’s telling of how he’d regaled some of the noble youngsters with tales of the griffons of old – that idea for embellishments to the formal wear had been _very_ well received among those who minded haute couture – Elissa found herself immensely grateful that she’d had the foresight to include orders about placement of those extinct creatures.  “Since we’re on the topic, I’ll thank you all for taking care in how your griffons were displayed.  I can’t imagine having to explain to Lord Who’s-it or Lady Thing about showing proper respect for our heritage.”

“ _I_ say there was such wasted opportunity, myself,” Zevran chimed from his spot against the wall, where he had been occupied flipping a dagger in a small arc through the air.  He’d long since grown accustomed to the length of time involved in a proper Warden meal, and was used to entertaining himself for a time after he finished eating.  “Particularly where our Hentes Fia is concerned.  Cod griffons would have been the talk of the noble circles for years to come, I am sure of it.”

Nathaniel froze in place and closed his eyes, a sausage halfway to his open mouth.  After a moment, he resumed eating, irritated that he’d given even that small bit of encouragement to the lecherous elf.  Elissa had been more successful in masking her reaction, though she wasn’t quite sure the assassin had missed it entirely.

Zevran’s suggestion was punctuated by another rumble from Oghren.  “Heh.  Gotta be a pretty sad cod that needs wings to find its way up.  _You_ know what I’m talkin’ about, don’t ye, Sparklefingers?”

Now it was Anders’s turn to freeze, and though no sound was made it appeared he might have been having an issue holding on to the bit of food he’d just swallowed.  “Just… No.”

“Ah, c’mon.  No cods, no templar swords… Ye’re just no fun anymore.”

Anders was well aware that conversation around the table had stopped.  After a moment, wanting to salvage whatever dignity he could, he set his half-eaten breakfast on a corner of the table and fled the dining hall at a fast walk.

Late morning found him engrossed in conversation on magical theory with the liaison from the Circle while Elissa sat the throne discussing various affairs of state with Varel.  Their discussion ground to a halt as the door to the courtyard swung open, prompting Elissa’s jaw to drop toward the floor.  “Fergus?”

“Good!  You haven’t forgotten your brother’s name.  I’d have to worry about your ability to command if you weren’t able to name the surprise that just walked in.”  Grinning broadly, the Teyrn of Highever stepped further into the throne room.

Hurrying off the dais to meet him and drag him into a fierce hug, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m entitled to take _one_ holiday away from Highever, aren’t I?  I had a letter from Nathaniel, suggesting it might be a good idea to spend some time here for Satinalia.  Not that I expected it to come from you, of course,” Fergus winked as he drew back from the embrace.  “Also, before we go much further, you ought to know… You’ve a naked dwarf in your courtyard, staring intently at a very distressed-looking smith who seems to be pounding dents out of his armor.”

At this, Anders fixed his gaze on Fergus’s face.

“Maker’s twisted testi-“ Elissa bit off her curse as her brother’s eyebrows winged up.

“I’ll, ah, I’ll go see what I can do.  To preserve the modesty of the citizenry, I mean.”  Anders offered this as he stepped toward the door, heading out before Elissa could contradict him.

Elissa turned her attention back to Fergus.  “What do you mean, _Nathaniel_ suggested?”

“Oh, well, if I’m not welcome, I’m sure I could-“

“Of _course_ you are, you idiot.”

“Good, because I wasn’t leaving anyway.  He just thought it might do us both some good to have some time together, is all.”

Before Elissa could think too hard about what this meant, Anders came back in, walking just as quickly as he had when he’d exited the dining hall earlier in the morning and muttering to himself as he passed under the arch leading to the section of the Keep held for living quarters.

No one spoke for a moment after the jarring confusion, until Sigrun piped up from next to the shelf she’d been searching for something to read.  “Did I just hear him say something about a cold bath?” 

* * *

By the time lunch was served the next day, several regulars in the Keep couldn’t help but glance surreptitiously between the dwarf and the healer, their wonder at what might have been going on plain on their faces.  The Wardens did their best to ignore it, as well as they knew the pair; they just couldn’t will their minds to contemplate what might be behind the new height of awkwardness in the interaction between the two.

As a meal was the only time certain to see everyone gathered during official downtime, Elissa took this opportunity to give her orders that everyone would be expected to dress for the Satinalia gathering tomorrow.  “Some of the nobles from the arling will be in attendance.  It’s not going to be a grand ball, and they’ll be going back for holiday dinners at their own estates, but I want you all to put in an appearance and mingle.  And Oghren?  Soap.”

“Griffons and all?” Nathaniel raised a brow.

“No, we can’t have you wearing the same outfits you just used at the royal court.  We wouldn’t want the arling thinking they’re only worth recycled clothing or some similar load of horsesh-“

“And of course,” Anders jumped in, “Wardens should be known the world over for their impeccable fashion sense.”

“Heh, see?”  Oghren leered down the table.  “He _did_ get me on the wings.”

“I… Maker,” Anders rolled his eyes and found his way out of the dining hall, prematurely abandoning his meal.  Again.

After a few minutes of stunned silence, Elissa wanted to pin the dwarf on just _what_ in the Void was going on, but as soon as she opened her mouth a woman’s voice floated into the room from the stairs.  “Hello?  Is this where everyone is?”

“Is that…”  Nathaniel twisted around so he could see the entry, thinking he recognized the voice.  “Delilah!  What in the world…  Now is not the time for you to be traveling!” 

Heavy with child, Delilah leaned over to kiss her brother’s cheek in greeting.  “Don’t worry so much, really.”

Elissa took the distraction as her chance to sneak out through the servant’s hallway, not wanting to be on the spot for the rest of the reunion.

Nathaniel wouldn’t let it go.  “Do you have any idea how dangerous the roads are?  Especially now, with gifts and gold traveling between cities?”

“Really, Nathaniel, it’s fine.”  Delilah lowered herself onto an end of the bench and leaned her elbows back onto the table, obviously relieved to be off her feet.  “I had a carriage, and an armed escort fit for a king.  I was probably safer on the road than I would have been at high noon in the market district back in the city.  Although I should have saved myself the trouble of navigating those stairs and stayed in the throne room.  That blond mage – Anders, was it? – is putting on quite the light show with his magic.”

Oghren shot to his feet at hearing this and grabbed a bottle of wine from the table, taking a long pull and guzzling most of it down in one go.  Offering nothing more by way of explanation than a loud belch, he headed out of the room.

“I was going to stop in and see you the next time we were in Amaranthine.  You shouldn’t have gone to the expense, I mean it.”

“What expense?  The whole affair carried the Vigil’s Keep crest.  I thought you had arranged… Hmm.  If you didn’t sort it out, Elissa must have put the whole thing together.  She _did_ say last time we saw each other that she was sorry she needed you here.”

Nathaniel could only stare.  Elissa had _said_ she hadn’t intended to leave him out of the visit to Delilah, but…

Presently, Justice stepped down the last of the stairs and paused in the entryway.  “There is still much of the mortal world I do not understand.  Might one of you be able to enlighten me?  Please, what is a sparklepecker?”

* * *

With all the mingling among the nobles in the great hall, it had been very hard for Anders and Oghren to avoid contact with one another.  It had also been equally difficult for those who knew them to avoid notice of the fact that their eyes kept meeting through the crowd.  In a room full of humans, one would have thought it would take effort to make eye contact with a dwarf standing twenty feet away, but it happened with a regularity that made the both of them appear exceedingly uncomfortable.

But then, as Varel thanked the various vassals of the arling for their attendance and ushered them out the door, it was very apparent to those who remained that neither the dwarf nor the healer were anywhere to be found.  There being some time yet until the holiday feast was served for the residents of the Keep, the Wardens went off to occupy themselves.  Elissa and Nathaniel remained with their siblings, both surprised at the casual ease with which they settled into polite conversation.

Connected as they were, and in the presence of their family, they were both aware that right this minute they didn’t regret being so angry with each other that they hadn’t thought to arrange a traditional Satinalia gift as befit friends.  The moment itself was enough.

Elissa sipped from her goblet of mulled wine and made a face.  “Someone remind me why I drink this?  Every Satinalia I forget to object when they’re passing it out, and every Satinalia it puts me in mind of grape stew.  All the junk they add to it before it boils, they’ve just ruined a good vintage.”

Nathaniel smiled at the thought.  “Everyone likes mulled wine on Satinalia.  It’s a rule.”

“Just a shame we’re too far north to see any decent snow this early in the year,” Delilah mourned.  “That’s what would really make the wine palatable.”

“ _That’s right!  Heh, ride it like a parade bronto through the commons!_ ”

All four left in the room looked around to find the source of the voice, which was accompanied by a loud thud.  Eight eyes came to rest on a storage room set off the great hall behind the throne, the door to which was slightly ajar.

“ _Please_ tell me,” Elissa began slowly, “that no one invited Felsi to take part in the festivities?”

“I can’t believe anyone would have been that stupid,” Nathaniel offered, his gaze transfixed.

Three more loud thumps.  _“Heh, who needs a griffon?  I don’t need a griffon.”_

“Andraste’s tied-up tits, I cannot believe… Well, yes, I can.  I suppose I just ought to be grateful he waited for the nobles to leave.”  Elissa shook her head, wincing a bit at Fergus’s expression.

“And just where did you learn to talk like that, Sister?”  Fergus cast an incredulous glance back toward the open door.

“I learn well enough on my own, thank you.”

Delilah looked too horrified to have noticed the profanity.  Nathaniel shut his eyes and let himself be relieved that Elissa was just as repulsed by the goings-on as he was.

Continued thumping filtered out into the room now, not stopping, accompanied by a long and cavernous belch. 

 _“Oh,_ yes _, you dirty little dwarf!_ ”

Elissa couldn’t have been more shocked if she’d had a proposition from the Archdemon himself.  “Was that _Anders_?”  Without bothering to register the horror on Nathaniel’s face, she stalked the short distance to the back of the room and threw open the door.

Revealed to the room, Anders – fully clothed – leaned against the wall and fixed a cheeky smile on his face, slowly winding down the pounding of his fist against one of the crates standing nearby.

“Heh,” Oghren looked up at her as he shoved off another crate and headed out the door.  “Now you two lovebirds know what it’s like for the rest of us watchin’ ye.”


End file.
